


Corpse Bride

by sapphskies



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Corpse Bride (2005) Fusion, Arranged Marriage, M/M, corpse bride! minho, stressed! han jisung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27307501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphskies/pseuds/sapphskies
Summary: ⇢ Jisung's luck with marriage only continues to wear thin as a deadly mistake leads him down a commitment he'd never signed up for.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Corpse Bride

**Author's Note:**

> just to note: minho does go by he/him, but he enjoys being referred to as a bride and a wife, which is why he is Jisung's corpse bride !! just a note, in case anyone is confused :)

_'With this hand, I will lift your sorrows,'_

The overgrowth of the dark, grimy forestry surrounds Jisung like a cloud of guilt, its sharp teeth bite into his weak resolve, his words sounding sluggish and tired.

_'your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.’_

Jisung holds up an imaginary cup, feeling the dewy perspiration in the air hit at his cold skin. Jisung hated winter solely because his skin paled a bit whenever the sun wasn’t there to shine down on him.

_‘With this candle I will light your way in darkness.'_

He grabs a branch, maiming the lighting of a candle, ironically only being met with more cold.

_'With this ring I ask you to be mine.’_

The object held between his thumb and his index finger gleams with the shine of the moonlight overhead, and he moves to place it within a branch that almost perfectly resembles the ring finger of a hand.

A mysterious chill passes by, raking shivers through Jisung’s body. Leaves that had long fallen and become victim to shoe soles and grime, pass him by and float through the air with great resolve and calculated movement. They swirl into place and suddenly the atmosphere feels more abnormal than typical, which was quite peculiar, seeing as the atmosphere was _never_ not aberrant.

The crows sat up on tall trees begin to caw with greater resonance and raspier repertoire. Had there even been that many crows out when Jisung had arrived?

The boy barely notices when the arm-like branch cracks, his focus situated towards the distant cawing and the height of the trees towering over his much-smaller self. That is, until, there was no way he could possibly avoid when the branch stretches out to take hold of his wrist, reeling him down and onto his knee, and then holding the rest of his arm down till its buried into the dirt and grime.

Jisung’s instincts yell at him to do something, but he feels helpless under the strength of this odd branch, trying multiple times to yank his way out, only to continue to be drawn back in by the – it is literally a branched arm, at this point. Cold beads of sweat collect at his forehead, and the boy doesn’t seem to find the strength to shriek, even as the crows grow louder and start fluttering through the wind as if having just spotted someone new.

Once he manages to finally wrench his way out of the persistent hold, Jisung finally manages to sound out a yell when he finds what, now, more closely resembles a skeleton’s arm, wound around his own. He flings it away, but his panic is yet to disperse as he watches the ground he’d just distanced himself from, begin to rumble and shake as something within its depths attempts to rear its head out from under it. _No, it is quite literally a head._

A head, and then slowly, the rest of its body lifts from the depths of rubble and muck. The figure lifts its long, torn veil to reveal a face tinted with blue and grey, his messy, ashy blue strands shaking off any remnants of dirt, tearing apart the branches and roots that held him down. Atop the frayed veil, sits a small bed of worn blue flowers along the crown of his head. He’s adorned in a white suit that stretches out to form part of a tattered, greying wedding dress tail, its material light and diaphanous. Bits of his suit are torn in certain patches, revealing the parts of him that have become just bone.

His lips part to form those two words ‘I do.’

But Jisung doesn’t, so he sprints into the distance as far as he can, from this mysterious demon of the night, hoping that he can at least find himself somewhere whence the hallucinations don’t run as potently.

He stumbles, bumps into branches and trees and miscellaneous objects during this less-than-orderly sprint, but the notion that the odd wedding ghoul that he’s accidentally summoned going as far away from his view as possible keeps him going.

Finally, he finds himself at a stone walkway, as he stops to catch his breath. For a second, all seems silent and still. He briefly scans the scenery; no blue ghoul to be seen. Until, of course, his luck wears completely thin as he turns to directly face the very ghoul.

‘You may kiss the bride.’

And as he leans down to do so, the crows encircle them at lightning speed, and Jisung’s senses only continue to deplete, as he finally feels himself fall into darkness.

🥀🥀🥀

Jisung’s senses snap back into motion many hours later, or so it feels like it. The first thing his mind registers is the potent amount of sound surrounding him; paradoxical when compared to the silence of the last surroundings he remembers being in.

Not here, for the atmosphere is surprisingly bright and he can feel and hear the commotion around him, the clinking of glasses, and the exuberance in the atmosphere, even with his eyes still wound shut.

Eventually, his senses fully kick back up and he feels himself sit up in one swift motion, and as he lets out a sharp gasp, he tastes something repugnant on the tip of his tongue; a taste that lingers and only continues to spread through him like the cologne his father slathered himself with spread through the air of his house – Jisung always wondered, what was the point in spending large sums of money on something that smelled cheaper than the actually cheap ones.

Jisung’s head feels both heavy and light; the enigma of which sends the left side of his chest into overdrive and the pressure in his lungs to increase.

‘Oh, you’re awake!’ He hears the familiar, soft voice gasp out from his right.

‘You realise he has a heartbeat, right? Now, how’d you land yourself a breather?’ An unfamiliar, loud, raspy voice sounds from his left.

‘Oo, I haven’t been able to touch a living person since–,’

‘Changbin! Hands off the strange man!’

‘But he’s so soft and mushy!’ Changbin’s hands squeeze into Jisung’s cheeks.

It’s all too overwhelming; too many eyes, too much bustle, and the smell of death is so pungent Jisung feels like he’s minutes away from landing in his own deathbed.

So, he propels himself forward and away, heaving out strangled gasps and feeling his body shake with fear as he leans onto the nearest wooden table.

He feels a hand fall onto his shoulder, and the same soft voice ask ‘Darling, are you alright?’

‘H-huh?’ is all that he manages between heavy puffs of air. Almost as if to remind and reassure himself that his lungs are still full of air.

‘Well, you fainted after the proposal, but I suppose pre-wedding jitters are normal.’

‘Pre-wedding?’

‘Yes! Well, I presume that _wa_ s the wedding, since you said your vows, and so beautifully as well!’ The boy grins.

Jisung supposes, he looks a bit more humane in this light, but nothing can change the fact that he very much isn’t, and that the hand _his_ finger was on was that of a skeleton’s.

 _What_ exactly was he?

‘Vows? But – oh god, I did…,’ Jisung’s eyes widen and he feels himself buckle and fall onto the chair conveniently beside him, his head falling into his hands, silently mumbling to himself that he has to wake up.

Because this had to have been a dream, right? He wonders, how his mind could’ve possibly conjured up such an odd scenario and an even odder setting, but he guesses his over-active imagination as a child precedes him.

So why was it so hard to…

‘Wake up, wake up, wake up!’ Jisung hurriedly hits at his head, hoping that it’ll somehow take him out of whatever nightmare he’d landed himself. Opening his eyes after rubbing at them vehemently, unfortunately, doesn’t do much, as the first thing he’s met with is the sight of a man in pirate attire and a sword wedged between the bit of his ribs that are exposed. No question as to how he died. Jisung quickly remembers the man – whose face was so hollow he might as well have had all the life seeped out of him…because he had.

‘I’m Changbin, and I’ll be supplying the wedding with all the alcohol you need!’ The man offers a bony hand, but Jisung ignores it in opting to run away, however futile the attempt.

He does, in fact, find himself backing away, straight into a skeleton, and then another skeleton, and then…there seems to be a pattern here.

Eventually, he reaches a dead end and scans the room of bar-goers that had stopped to stare at him. The mysterious ghoul from the forest looks disheartened.

‘I don’t understand. Who are you people, w-where am I?’ Jisung frantically demands.

‘Well,’ A man behind the bar, only a few feet away from him, explains ‘I think you would do with a quick storytelling.’

‘I’m Chan,’ The man introduces. Other than his ashy complexion, he looks mostly humane; no ribs or bone poking out of any strange places, at least ‘this is my bar.’

He motions to the room, and Jisung watches as everyone waves as his eyes pass them by ‘And, we are all dead.’

🥀🥀🥀

Jisung’s chest feels heavy, as if every dead end he meets becomes a new derailment off of the tracks of hope that he still somehow held onto. His feet ache, and his heart burns, but in his determination, he continues to re-route every which way he can, hoping that somehow, he’ll stop running into dead people.

He just wants to get home. Any problems he might’ve faced on the land of the living seem trivial now, fruitless to his train of thoughts. It didn’t matter if he continued to mess up his vows, for at least he’d finally be able to have the comfort of his parents’ living presence, however cold they were, and his soon-to-be husband, Felix, even if he’d only known him shortly.

Whatever kind of escape plan he could’ve formulated at the spot, just then, is completely diminished for nothing when he hears that voice again.

‘Jisung?’

_Shit._

He gasps, turning around, only to be directly faced with exactly the person he’d been attempting to run away from. Maybe it was a bit harsh, to have decided, so suddenly, to run away just before the boy – his husband, supposedly – was about to approach him. He was in the land of the living; but why? Had he chosen death by accidentally muttering vows to a corpse bride?

And Sure, he’d sympathised with his story, and Chan’s good bartending hospitality, but all that had been on his mind after it was the fact that he _needed_ to get home. Because all that he could think of was the fact that they seemed to be winding him up; _this_ was meant to be his new life.

‘Don’t you love the view from up here?’ The boy continues, smiling down at Jisung’s dread-stricken form ‘I’m glad I found you here, actually, I was hoping to show it to you someday anyways.’

Jisung doesn’t respond but doesn’t retaliate when Minho sits himself down on the ledge and pats at the spot next to him. Jisung sits on the cold ground beneath him – although everywhere here was cold – and stares out into the people roaming around beneath them, looking like tiny figures in a dollhouse of Jisung’s imagination; it still felt like a figment of it.

‘I do understand why you ran off like that.’

‘You do?’ Jisung finds new hope in the statement, turning to look back at the figure next to him in sudden optimism.

‘Hm. Must’ve been intimidating, all those new faces and Chan’s little head split trick,’ He’d been referring to when Jisung made the mistake of remarking that Chan didn’t look too dead, causing him to demonstrate that he easily detach his head from his body because that was how he passed away ‘plus, all that wedding talk–,’

‘Uh, sorry, but that’s exactly the issue, you see, we’re not supposed to be married.’ Jisung painfully explains.

‘What do you mean? You gave me a ring, and everything.’ Minho lifts his hand, showcasing the sparkly ring in all its glory, and Jisung feels his chest tighten at the simple sight.

He lets out an awkward chuckle ‘But I don’t even know your name.’ The idea sounds comical, now. The fact that Jisung had accidentally proposed to a dead man, and however many hours later, has yet to learn his name.

‘Minho,’ He grins, although a hint of melancholy lingers in his voice.

‘Right. Well, you seem lovely Minho, but I really should be getting back home.’

Minho’s grin dissipates slightly, and he tilts his head curiously, playing with the hem of his long skirt before saying ‘This _is_ your home now.’

All Jisung can do is sigh out into the open air, feeling utter horror engulf his mind and the length of a bridge in his mind moving towards hope stop at a dead end.

‘Well,’ Minho hesitates, thinking up possible solutions to improve the dire state his husband had fallen under ‘I suppose there is a way for you to go back home momentarily. You could even show me around if you’d like.’

Jisung brightens at that. An idea begins brewing. Finally, the bridge extends again.

‘That sounds wonderful!’ He exclaims, mirroring Minho’s vivacious smile.

He’ll finally go back home to Felix, back home where he was needed. And this time, there’ll be no mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween !! i didn't get to dress up and we don't celebrate it here hh but i hope everyone has/had a great day :D


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